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THE 



GEO¥TI OF CITIES 



DISCOURSE 



DELIVEREB BEFORE THE NEW YORK GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY , 
ON THE EVENING OF MARCH 15th, 1855. 



BY 



HENRY P/TAPPAN, D.D., LL.D. 

CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVEESITT OF MICHIGAN. 




NEW YORK : 
R. CRAIGHEAD, PRINTER, 53 VESEY STREET. 

1855. 



:r; ? 



An Abstract from the Minutes of the American Oeogra'phical 
and Statistical Society. 

Meeting on Thursday evening, Marcli 15th, 1855. 



"The Society adjourned to the small Chapel, where Chancellor Lewis 
Tappan, of the Michigan University, read a paper on the Growth of Cities, 
etc. 

" After Mr. Tappan had finished his lecture, several gentlemen expressed 

their approbation of the principles developed in so masterly a manner, and 

suggested the expediency of publishing this paper for the benefit of a larger 

circle of our fellow-citizens. On motion of the Hon. Alexander W. Bradford, 

the thanks of the Society were voted to Mr. Tappan, and Charles King, LL.D., 

was authorized to make the necessary arrangements for printing said paper 

as a Pamphlet." 

ARCHIBALD RUSSELL, Recording Secretary. 



'^Y ^ 



THE GROWTH OF CITIES. 



Cities had their origin in the necessity of a common 
defence. Hence the first cities were fortresses ; and where 
the face of 1;he country admitted of it, were built on hills 
or amid rocky fastnesses. Petra was built amid impreg- 
nable rocks. Eome was built on seven hills. The old 
cities of Etruscan origin are scattered on a chain of hills ; 
there the inhabitants are still congregated, while the pastures, 
the fields of corn, and the vines fill the plains below. Where 
the country presented only a continuous plain, and there 
were no hills and rocks to be found, cities were located on 
the banks of large rivers, whose waters were diverted into 
moats around the walls. Babylon stood on the banks of the 
Euphrates, Nineveh on the banks of the Tigris, and Paris 
on an island in the Seine. 

The place of strength next became the seat of empire, — 
the residence of kings,— and collected about it regal dignity 
and magnificence. So Petra became a gem of beauty among 
the rocks,— the glory of Arabia ; Babylon and Nineveh the 
vast palaces of kings; and Rome, upon the seven hills, the 
Capital and Mistress of the world. 

Sometimes, like Alexandria, St. Petersburgh, Berlin, and 
Washington, cities have been founded as Capitals. 

But other necessities arose— the necessities of Commerce ; 
and Commerce sought for itself the centres of trade, and faci- 
lities of transportation. Thus Tyre, and Sidon, and Carthage, 
and Athens sprang up on the Mediterranean ; Venice upon 
islands in the Adriatic; Byzantium on the Bosporus; 
London on the Thames ; and Palmyra on the grand route by 
which Caravans passed from the rising to the setting sun. 
In the feudal times, when the Barons built upon the hills, 



or perched upon pinnacled rocks, not cities, but their solita- 
ry towers, to overawe the weak, and to plunder industry, 
then enterprising men congregated in cities in the midst of 
fertile districts to profit the world, while they enriched them,- 
selves, by the manufacture of useful fabrics. Their main 
employment lay amid the arts of industry, while at the same 
time they were, by compulsion, soldiers. One hand rested 
upon the loom or the anvil, while the other wielded sword 
and spear. With them it was not work and play, but work 
and battle. And thus arose the free cities of Germany and 
the low countries. 

The cultivation of literature and science, and the diffusion 
of knowledge have, by their necessities, also, caused cities to 
spring up. 

The cultivation of literature and science requires a con- 
centration of means and efforts. Learned men and libraries 
cannot be carried to the door of every individual. Learned 
men require to be associated that they may act upon each 
other for their common advancement in knowledge and 
culture, and that they may unite their labors for scientific 
discovery, for literary production, and for the education of 
youth. Books scattered here and there are like a scattered 
capital ; when collected in a large library, they are like a 
concentrated capital. Thus great Universities come into be- 
ing, and a nation becomes supplied with scientific men and 
authors. 

Universities have generally been located in cities already 
existing, but they have collected cities around them when- 
ever they have been planted in the solitude. Thus a ford 
for oxen over the Isis, and a bridge over the sluggish Cam, 
near which great Universities grew up, have lost their im- 
portance, while they have given their names to the large, 
populous, and beautiful cities of Oxford and Cambridge. 

Religion as wel) as learning has given birth to cities ; 
Jerusalem, Delphi, and Heliopolis, the sacred seats of old re- 
ligions, gained their wealth and splendor from this source. 

Such, in brief, are the causes and occasions which have 
given rise to cities. But their history shows us that they 
have seldom preserved their simple original character; and 
we shall see, in the progress of this discussion, that their full 
development requires more elements than the one immediate- 



ly connected with their origin. It is true, indeed, that one 
element naturally grows out of another^ and yet, there are 
influences which are hostile to this natural development, or 
which, at least, may give a disastrous predominance to some 
over others. 

In the growth of cities the fortress ' became a royal resi- 
dence. But, where the court was, there would be splendor, 
elegance, and refinement carried out, to the utmost idea of 
civilization which had as yet obtained. Hence, naturally, 
the royal city, where the monarch seized this idea, and felt 
its genial impulse, became the seat of learning and the arts. 

The ruins of Babylon are shapeless mounds, but historv 
has not left us without records of its palaces and hanging 
gardens, its treasures, its beautiful arts, and the learning of 
its Magi. 

Nineveh, in our times, has been exhumed, and reveals to 
the astonished eye the indisputable remains of royal magni- 
ficence, and of a sculpture which, belonging to the same type 
with the Egyptian, may claim to vie with it as representing 
that stage of the art, when boldness of design and elaborate 
finish formed the chief characteristics ; and Grecian elegance 
and grace had not yet appeared. 

The massive ruins of Egypt still remain. The Pyramids, 
the Tombs, the exiled obelisks, the mutilated Sphynx, 
Thebes and Karnak, attest the power, the splendor, the art, 
the gorgeous forms of life of those ancient dynasties. 

The ancient fortress of Eomulus and Eemus, afterwards 
the imperial city of the Csesars, in its Coliseum, its 
triumphal arches, its ruined palaces and temples, and the 
exhumed treasures of art which crowd the Yatican, calls up 
a vision of imperial greatness, power, and magnificence, and 
of the development of the arts, which the imagination might 
ambitiously claim as its own, did not the stupendous and 
beautiful ruins furnish data which make the vision only a 
just historical conception. The little island, La Cite, in the 
Seine, first selected as a secure position, is now only the 
centre of the vast capital of the Bourbons and the Napoleons, 
where the brilliancy and gaiety of the Court, and the 
displays of the great mart of fashion, are eclipsed by the sub- 
stantial glory of art and learning. 

Of the capitals which have been founded, perhaps none 



6 

lias retained the original character more exclusively than St, 
Petersburgh, which may still be said to be divided between 
the court and the army. On the other hand, Alexandria, 
which at first supplanted Tyre as the mistress of commerce, 
became also a famous seat of learning ; Berlin stands now 
■unrivalled for its institutions of learning and the arts ; and 
Washington is receiving a new character from the presence 
of the Smithsonian Institution. 

The sacerdotal cities have always been the seats of learning 
and the arts. The merit of being learned men cannot be 
denied to the priesthood ; and the temples of the deities, with 
their adornments, have always claimed the highest efforts of 
the arts. The temple of Zion, and the wisdom and magni- 
ficence of Solomon, made th*e Holy City the glory of the 
East. Delphi, called by the Greeks the " Navel of the 
Earth," incalculably enriched by offerings made at the shrine 
of the oracle, and with its temples, and statues, its gay reli- 
gious rites, and all its advantages tof situation and natural 
beauty, became the embodiment of a dream of luxury and 
elegance. Heliopolis, the city of the sun, now known as 
Balbec, in its still perfect and marvellous columns, and the 
broken masses which strew the ground, reads to us'a history 
of architectural beauty, and of cultivated life, which makes 
the traveller wonder at the surrounding desert. And Eome, 
for cenlvuries a sacerdotal city, with its glorious temple of 
St. Peter, with its three hundred churches, and its palaces 
filled with frescoes, statues, and paintings, attests the power 
of the religious element in the growth of cities. 

But whatever be the other elements of growth, there are 
two which must always be present more or less, and these 
are manufactures and commerce. They, of course, must 
always exist to a sufficient extent to bring in, or to create, 
and to distribute whatever is necessary to meet the wants of 
the inhabitants. But they do not exist to a sufficient extent 
if they do not afford full employment to the laboring classes. 
The offerings at the shrines, as in Delphi, the plunder of 
provinces, as in ancient Eome, and the visits of Pilgrims, as in 
Rome of the Middle Ages, may supplant the necessity of in- 
dustry ; but this always inevitably leads to a luxurious and 
besotted or to a seditious populace. Whatever be the pre- 
dominant character of the city, it cannot be a city of a health- 



fal character and of enduring prosperity, without floi^rishing 
manufactures and commerce. One of these two may, indeed, 
predominate over the other, while they necessarily beget 
each other ; and so we have strictly commercial cities, and 
others strictly manufacturing. The principle is, that, to be 
virtuous, men must have work ; and commerce and manu- 
factures, comprising of course the mechanic arts, are the 
natural forms of industry in cities. 

The development of commercial cities into higher forms of 
life, is a remarkable fact in their history. The wealth of 
Athens, unquestionably, arose from its commerce ; and yet, 
when we think of Athenian life, its commerce seldom comes 
into view ; but our minds are filled with the glories of the 
Acropolis ; with the philosophic musings of the grove of 
Academus, and the names of Socrates and Plato ; with the 
eloquence of Pericles and Demosthenes ; with the heroism 
of Miltiades and Themistocles ; with the theatre, where the 
tragedies of ^schylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, were repre- 
sented ; and with the character of tha,t wonderful people who, 
from morn to eve, could listen to matchless oratory and 
poetry, and judge with critical skill of the proprieties of 
sentiment and language. 

Thus, too, Byzantium u.pon the Bosporus grew into 
Constantinople, the magnificent capital of the Eastern 
Empire, filled with men of learning, and all the adornments 
of the arts ; Venice upon' the Adriatic, at one time the great 
commercial emporium of the world, became a city of palaces, 
where merchant-princes were the patrons of scholars and 
artists ; Florence, upon the banks of the Arno, became the 
home of the Muses, and is still, when its other titles of 
■ honor have departed, one great Museum of painting and 
sculpture, where deities "■ breathe in stone," or look out with 
eyes of life from the canvas ; Genoa, upon the Mediterranean, 
grew another Venice, if Venice were not only another 
Genoa ; Antwerp, upon the Scheldt — the home of Bubens 
— mingled with its commercial records a history of genius ; 
the beautiful Naples, upon that wizard bay, whose summer 
gales breathe from ancient shores, has become the treasure- 
house of ancient and modern art ; and Holland, the most in- 
tensely industrial and commercial of all ife countries of the 
Earth, has filled her cities with institutions of learning, and 



8 

works and monuments of art. Other cities of more modern 
date might be mentioned, where the same tendencies are 
observable : but the most noted instances will suffice. 

It must be confessed, that manufacturing cities have not 
exhibited the same tendencies to the same degree ; of which 
Liege, Malines, Lyons, Birmingham, and Manchester, may 
be cited as instances. Still manufacturing cities have not 
been destitute of art and refinement, and undoubtedly possess 
capabilities of reaching both. The free towns of the middle 
ao-es possessed a mixed manufacturing and commercial cha- 
racter, and a mixed industrial and heroic character ; and 
hence we find in them a higher tone of life than in the purely 
manufacturing towns of modern times. 

The causes of the superiority of the commercial over the 
manufacturing cities, may be found in the more extensive 
acquaintance which they form with other nations, in respect 
to their peculiar productions, their advantages, physical and 
intellectual, their modes of life, their languages, literature,, 
and arts. Commercial cities are to manufacturing cities, in 
these respects, what cities in general are to the rural districts. 
Hence we find commercial cities naturally taking the lead in 
the introduction of various improvements from abroad, and 
even coming to wear a foreign aspect. A stranger, un- 
acquainted with the history of Yenice, would say, at once, 
that this people had held communication with the Bast ; 
their habits and the style of their architecture are so 
oriental. 

The influence of this wide-spread intercourse is various : 
it enlarges the boundaries of knowledge; it moulds and 
Immanizes through spontaneous and insensible imitation ; it 
weakens narrow prejudices by revealing objects worthy of 
admiration in other nations; and it stimulates to activity 
through natural pride and national competition. 

In both commercial and manufacturing cities there is a 
strong tendency to free institutions. This arises from the 
very nature of trade and manufactures, which require 
freedom of thought, enterprise, inventions, and action. 
I>J"othing can be more fatal to them than arbitrary restric- 
tions. They have their own inherent laws by which they 
demand to be governed. Hence the greatest commercial 
states have ever \men free states. Carthage, Greece, Venice, 



and Holland, are examples. And where, like ancient Tyre 
or modern England, the form of government is monarchical, 
it is not despotic ; for the spirit of enterprise and resolute 
activity, demanded by commerce, must ever be inconsistent 
with a despotism. 

Of manufacturing states, the free towns which prostrated 
the power of the Barons, are examples. 

The causes, however, which go to give the ascendency in 
intelligence and refinement to commercial cities, make them 
also more remarkable for the development of free institu- 
tions. A servile condition of the masses of the people is 
more consistent with manufactures than with commerce ; for 
the laborer is more liable to be oppressed and degraded. 

But while wc see so many causes at work to give cultiva- 
tion and elevation to commercial cities, and while so many 
illustrious instances can be adduced where these have been 
attained, there are other causes at work also of an opposite 
character, nor are instances wanting to illustrate their power. 

In a commercial city or state, there is one idea and purpose 
which is prone to absorb every other, and to become the 
governing one ; and that is, obviously, the idea and purpose 
of accumulating wealth. Eefinement, elegance, art, and 
literature, may follow the accumulation of wealth, and have 
followed it, as we have seen, in many commercial states, and 
would seem naturally to follow it ; and yet the passion for 
. accumulation may become so engrossing as to leave no taste 
or leisure for higher pursuits. Or if a diversion be made, it 
may be a diversion in the direction of luxury and splendid 
parade, rather than in the direction of learning and the fine 
arts. And if it is admitted that eventually a commercial 
city or state must reach a high intellectual and social refine- 
ment, then we have to contemplate the possibility of a lono- 
series of years wasted upon forms of life unproductive ot 
any permanent results, and leaving behind no lofty histories, 
no works of literature, and no beautiful memorials of art. 
Tyre and Carthage are, perhaps, the two most striking 
instances of commercial prosperity which belong to ancient 
times ; and yet they seem never to have advanced beyond 
luxury and splendor, nor have they left to mankind one 
work of literature, or one precious remain of art. Thej 
ceased to exist, although their existence was by no means 



10 

brief, before they had advanced to a higher life ; and now 
they are the mere names of departed nations. 

What a striking contrast is presented in the city of 
Athens ! Never so wealthy or mighty as Tyre or Carthage, 
but leaving behind in its history, its philosophy, its oratory, its 
poetry, and in its glorious remains of art, a treasure which 
mankind will always preserve, elements of civilization which 
permeate the noblest forms of modern national existence. 
Tyre is a place where the fisherman spreads his net, and 
Carthage is a desolate plain ; while Athens is still the resort 
of pilgrims, who sit among the ruins of the Parthenon, and 
there read again the " winged words" of the greatest masters 
of human language, and gaze with tearful eyes upon forms 
of beaut}^, which neither the hand of time nor the barbarism 
of man has been able wholly to deface. 

And the ancient Etruria, although overrun and crushed by 
the Eomans, no less than Carthage, and with scarcely a rem- 
nant of its language existing, and that well nigh unintelligible, 
still from its deep and silent tombs presents us undecayed 
forms of beauty, which exhibit a perfection of art not 
unworthy the chisel of the Grecian Phidias. 

The history of Carthage is, in several respects, a warning 
to commercial states and cities. Its situation on the Gulf of 
Tunis gave it both an extensive maritime and land trade ; 
and it grew, in consequence, to vast wealth and power. 

Sardinia, Sicily, and Spain, were among its conquests ; 
and at one time it seemed to threaten the very existence of 
Rome itself Its exterior harbor was filled with merchant 
ships, while its interior harbor, strongly fortified, and 
entered by a magnificent portico, was crowded by hundreds 
of war galleys. Within its walls was collected a population 
which, in its highest prosperity, probably amounted to a 
million of souls — a population alive to all the interests of a 
prosperous commerce, and glorying in their riches. Without 
the walls; a fertile and beautiful country was studded with 
the villas of the merchants. The silver mines of Spain and 
Sardinia were then unexhausted — money abounded, and the 
precious products of all nations. From generation to gene- 
ration the governing principle of the Carthaginian was to 
make money. And Carthage was dear to him, because there 
he could make money. He had battles to fight, and 



11 

conquests to make ; but he did not trouble himself to fight 
his own battles, or to make his own conquests. From the 
barbarous tribes of the interior he hired hundreds of thousands 
of mercenaries, and they fought and conquered for him, 
while he went on to make money. 

Every Athenian was a soldier: whether poet, philosopher, 
artist, or merchant, he never forgot he had a country to 
fight for, and he never would resign the heroic work to mer- 
cenary hands. Every Athenian in his nature was an artist, 
and a man of sentiment ; and understood the noble uses of 
wealth, in adorning the city which he loved, with monu- 
ments of art, and in rewarding the imperishable works of 
genius. The very air of his country was haunted by the 
spirits of divinities. Every spot was sacred by the history 
which consecrated it. His soul was wedded to his country 
by religion, by poetry, by heroic enthusiasm. 

The Carthaginian piled up riches, and collected the ap- 
pliances of luxury, and was content. Even the great 
commanders — for there were great commanders in Carthage 
—were nurtured in family factions rather than in patriotic 
devotion, and were inspired by the lust of rich conquests, 
rather than by the heroism of defending country and home. 
And the noblest of them all, drew his fiery energy from the 
spirit of revenge. 

When Carthage entered into that awful death struggle 
with Eome, her fall was inevitable. The merciless sentence 
fo Cato, Delenda est Carthago, and its unrelenting executioUj 
can never, indeed, be justified. But Avhen the sentence was 
uttered, the fate of Carthage was sealed. Eome had not 
yet imbibed the Athenian spirit of art and refinement ; but 
she was not inferior to Athens in the patriotism and heroic 
devotion of her citizens. The battles of Thrasymene and 
Cannss, were fought on the part of Carthage hj Spaniards 
and Africans; and the Carthaginian merchants at home 
rejoiced over victories which their hands had not aided. But 
Eome mourned over these battles as at once the loss of 
national honor, and the slaughter of her citizens. Hence 
the renewed gigantic exertions which followed every defeat. 
The Eoman then fought his own battles. When he bled, 
the blood was drawn from the great national heart. When 
he conquered, Eome triumphed. He lived but for his coun- 



12 

try, and in his country. The contest could never be given 
over while a citizen remained within the walls of the city. 
To the Eoman, Eome was everything. He had nothing to 
live for when the city of the seven hills was gone. It was 
this stern and all-absorbing patriotism, which made the 
Eoman aA' over-match for the Carthaginian. The Carthagi- 
nian lived to make money : he traded to make money : and he 
sent out his mercenary bands to conquer the lands of gold 
and silver, and gems, and all precious products • and Eome 
must be crushed when Eome met him in the path of his 
golden conquests. And yet the war with Eome was rather 
the affair of Hannibal than of Carthage. The Eoman fought 
only for Eome. Hence Eome was strongest at home : Car- 
thage was strong only abroad. When the war was carried to 
the gates of the former, she was like the Lioness invaded in 
her den, sheltering her whelps. When the war was carried 
to the gates of the latter, she was like the Hare driven to her 
last cover. The Eomans, in an emergency, were concentrated. 
If there had been factions and divisions before, they were 
forgotten now. The danger of the city was to them like 
pressure upon the keystone of an arch. The Carthaginians 
were the more divided the more their city was threatened. 
The last days of Carthage is a history of bribery and corrup- 
tion and rivalry. Even a Eoman party sprang up within 
the walls of the city. The selfishness nurtured by the love 
of gain ministered no patriotic devotion in the hour of trial. 
Instead of forming one compact phalanx of devoted heroism, 
every individual seemed intent only upon his own interest 
and security. They would defend Carthage as they had en- 
riched it. They had been so wholly accustomed to practise 
the principles of political economy, that they had lost the 
ability of practising the principles of duty. It is true, indeed, 
that when all hope of mercy from the Eomans was abandon- 
ed, the character of the Carthaginian melted away in the 
energies commonHo human nature when roused by despair. 
In the words ol Heeren, " the close of this great tragedy 
confirms the observation, that Eome trusted to itself and to 
its sword — Carthage to its gold and its mercenaries. The 
greatness of Eome was founded upon a rock ; that of Car- 
thage upon sand and gold dust." 

In the decline and fall of Carthage we have an exemplifi- 



13 

cation of the danger and ruin to which a commercial city or 
state is exposed. If gain be allowed to become the all-ab- 
sorbing, the governing passion, then the fine sentiments and 
feelings of humanity disappear. Then a taste for art and 
learning finds no place, or appears only in the meretricious 
form of luxurious display ; then philanthropy, chivalry, 
and patriotic devotion become dreams of romance before a 
hard and sarcastic utilitarianism. The decisive characteristic 
of this total absorption in gain appears where money is only 
employed to make money, and large accumulations become 
only the foundations of still larger- — where all profit, as the 
political economists say, is made to take the form of fixed 
capital, that new and richer profits may arise. Let it be un- 
derstood that we by no means condemn the principles of 
political economy. We have already stated that com- 
merce and manufactures are necessary elements in the 
growth of cities, and that there must be work enough to 
employ the whole population. We believe in the accumu- 
lation of fixed capital in reference to new and richer profits. 
We believe in the principles of political economy, as we believe 
in the principles of mechanics. We only say that there are 
other principles besides, which are no less important and 
indispensable. There are principles of truth, beauty, and 
morality also. 

There are principles of utility, which fill the land with 
material wealth and comfort. There are principles of faith, 
duty, and education, which adorn the human soul, and 
which cause the man to grow up to the full stature of a man ; 
and which show their outward effects in the healthful con- 
dition of the body politic, in social virtue and refinement, in 
institutions of religion and learning, in the noble arts of 
beauty, in those great public works by which one genera- 
tion makes its impression upon generations to come, and 
lives as an inspiration in the beating hearts of millions from 
age to age. 

Tyre and Carthage are as if they never had been. That 
bustling, gorgeous life has departed like " the baseless 
fabric of a vision," and save the warning of their example, 
they have given nothing to the world. But Greece and 
Rome have given us everything — language, philosophy, 
poetry, arts, and laws — the whole fabric of civilization. 



14 

Various are the uses of money. It ia a miglity power 
for good or for evil. It is a mightj power for good where it 
is employed in the cause of truth, of knowledge, and virtue. 
But let its engrossing use be merely to make increase of 
itself, and then it grows out into every form of evil. Then, 
the great type of excellence becomes material thrift ; then 
the commanding influence is material possessions ; then the 
of&ces of the state, the church, and of society at large, are 
valued by a material standard, and become a matter of bar- 
gain and sale ; then the holy rite of matrimony is changed 
into a commercial arrangement where two parties sell them- 
selves and buy each other, and the solemnities of a funeral 
are but a mock tragedy to usher in the festival of hungry 
heirs. 

One of the most unhappy consequences of the mastery of 
this element in cities, is that every office of society having 
its money value strongly expressed, while its inherent worth, 
honor, and dignity pass out of view, it becomes an object of 
desire and competition only to a class to whom its pecuniary 
value makes it available. The man best fitted for the office 
may be the very man to whom its money value is of no 
account ; and he, in this state of society, may be wholly un- 
willing to resign his more profitable pursuits, or even to 
trespass upon them, in any way, in order to discharge a pub- 
lic trust. On the other hand, the man least fitted may be 
the one to whom its peculiar money value is an object of 
prime consideration. The unwillingness or indifference of 
the first, enables the last to put himself forward as a candi- 
date. The success of one candidate of this description, will 
embolden others, until at length a party of the most incom- 
petent, and it may be, of the vilest members of society, 
become the office seekers and the office holders. There are 
now two classes into which the community is divided ; the 
men of commerce, who, all absorbed in prosperous business, 
neglect public affairs ; and the men who, without any fixed 
trade or commercial pursuits, make a trade of office, and 
fatten upon the public treasury. Here begins the reign of 
demagoguism, with bribery, corruption, and sedition in its 
train. Living in ceiled houses, riding in gilded coaches, roll- 
ing together immeasurable wealth, the men of commerce 
are for a time unaffected by that public peculation which. 



15 

widely distributed among the many, but slightly touches the 
individual. When the evil ia all its magnitude breaks upon 
them, it is too late to correct it. The quiet and undistracted 
pursuit of gain which they purchased by giving up their 
country to be the prey of demagogues, can be maintained no 
longer. Plunder has become audacious. "While men slept, 
the very laws have been shaped to afford it opportunities, 
and magistrates have been selected to wink at its enormities,. 
The leaders strengthen themselves by a division of the 
spoils. The party who live upon the public treasury have 
grown so numerous that it can only be supplied by onerous 
taxes. The great proprietors, the men of wealth, at length, 
feel the pressure of the burden. Vain efforts are now- 
made at reform. The state which they abandoned, aban- 
dons them. Public virtue has died out. There is no 
patriotism to appeal to. They who would now arouse it, 
were the first to renounce it as a principle of action. What 
now remains ? Bribery and corruption can only be met by 
bribery and corruption. The holders of property enter into 
a fierce struggle with the holders of the treasury. The low- 
est dregs of society are courted. The state is divided into 
contending factions. Can any one predict the end ? Will 
reform come by a terrible revolution ? Will the devoted 
state fall a prey to a foreign invader ? Is it Carthage that 
we are describing ? Then must the Eoman who acts in the 
energy of devoted patriotism, prove the mightier ; and the 
proud city of commerce must bow to a fate which her own 
insatiate love of gain has prepared for her. 

It is evident from the view we have taken, that various 
elements enter into the proper growth of cities, and that the 
predominance of one element is the cause of weakness and 
ruin. 

Thus far our discussion has been historical and illustra- 
tive. Let us now look at the subject philosophically. 

There can be no question that the association of men 
in cities is favorable to the highest development of human- 
ity. There are two directions in which the Power of civic 
association shows itself — the direction of labor and capital — 
and the direction of intelligence and cultivation. 

I. Labor and Capital. What we call division of labor is 
really combination of labor. It is bringing many men to do 



16 

a piece of work, and then distributing the several parts of it 
among them. It is therefore a combination of effort to one end. 

Where there is labor, there must be capital, for capi- 
tal is the material upon which labor expends itself, the 
instrument bj which it works, and the subsistence upon 
which it is sustained. There must, therefore, be a com- 
bination of capital wherever there is a combination of 
labor. Now a city is, in its very nature, a combination of 
capital and labor, on a large scale, and a corresponding 
division or distribution of labor. From this, two things 
must result and form distinguishing characteristics of cities, 
an energetic enterprise and industry, and a high degree of 
perfection in all material products embracing all the utilities 
and comforts of life. Enterprise and industry in a city are 
c[uickened by example, by competition, by the mutual sup- 
port of different forms of industry, and by inventions and 
arrangements springing from a multitude of minds acting 
upon each other. 

For the same reasons, material products and all useful 
things must be perfected in cities. Here, public buildings 
and dwelling-houses, and food and clothing, and every con- 
venience and comfort naturally take their proper forms, and 
man comes to understand the true economy of life. Hence, 
it must be confessed, that in cities all great improvements 
have generally had their origin ; and the reason is obvi- 
ous, why they have so often been the seats of empire, and 
have always been the arbiters of fashion and taste. 

The human being dwelling alone, or in sparsely settled 
districts, without any communication with cities, remains 
unacquainted with his own capabilities, and the possibilities 
of improvement; and he deteriorates in prejudice and 
ignorance, and rusts in imbecility. In cities, men are forced 
into the knowledge of their capabilities ; and the possi- 
bilities of improvement open to them without a limit. The 
surrounding country feels, also, the power of the civic life, 
and finds there the necessary complement of its own life. 
Agriculture is stimulated by the demands of the market 
which it always finds in a neighboring city. And in the 
country immediately adjacent, agriculture will be first im- 
proved by the same causes which improve other arts. In 
exchange for his products the agriculturist will bring from 



17 

the city various commodities for comfort, convenience, and 
elegance, while by the intercourse induced by this trade, he 
will advance in intelligence and manners. Thus cities are 
to be considered as the centres of civilization, as well as of 
the industrial arts. 

II. The power of civic association shows itself, again, in 
the direction of intelligence and cultivation. 
|| Cities tend to superior intelligence by the information 
which they naturally collect from intercourse with various and 
often distant places, and by the great variety of character, 
talent, and accomplishments, which they draw together in 
strangers and travellers, as well as in the native population. 
Cities are an accumulation of mind, as well as of capital 
and labor; and, consequently, their intellectual growth 
seems, in some sort, to be determined by a law of political 
economy, no less than their material growth. 

Then we are to consider that wonderful influence which 
human beings exert over each other by daily intercourse. 
It is the influence of words, of looks, of manners. Men talk- 
ing daily with men make a common stock of information and 
ideas, and keep each other's minds at work. Thought is not 
allowed to slumber; the tramp on the pavement, the ring at 
the door, new faces continually presented, constant talk 
from morning to night — on business, on politics, on the 
latest news, on a thousand topics trifling or important; 
constant talk, constant hearing, constant seeing, constant 
going about — what an excitement there is in this city life ! 
Men are here all pouring out to each other, and quaffing to- 
gether the sparkling champagne of life. There is often too 
much excitement — too much talking, hearing, and seeing, 
and going about, and not enough of still thought ; but, 
nevertheless, here, more than in any other form of life, men 
are sharpening each other's wits.. The influence of looks 
and manners is no less striking. How different the look of 
the savage from that of the civilized man ! how different the 
look of the uncultivated from that of the cultivated man ! 
The savage, peering about in the wilderness, gets that wild, 
startling stare peculiar to him ; the clown, unaccustomed to 
.various society, can scarcely look into the eyes of men at all, 
but stands simpering and hesitating with downcast, sluggish, 
expressionless eyes. In cities, men get accustomed to look 

2 



18 

into eacTi other's eyes. God meant human eyes to do service 
in this way. Looking at each other, they inspire and temper 
each other, and beget in each other intelligent, kindly, and 
courteous expressions. Eyes are the very life of human 
intercourse. Pleasant eyes awaken smiles in human faces, 
and then pleasant words follow. To meet human beings 
every day, men and women, boys and girls, and to meet 
them by hundreds, and to exchange with them pleasan|| 
looks, pleasant smiles, and pleasant words, varying with con- 
dition, age, and sex, can it be otherwise than that this 
enlivens, softens, and polishes manners ? Is it not a gentle 
attrition by which human beings are rounded off to each 
other? Is it not a kindly attraction by which they are 
drawn into mutual respect and courtesj' ? The common 
judgment of mankind has awarded a decision in the very 
forms of language by borrowing the words 2^oUteness and 
civilization from the name of the inhabitants of a cit}^ 

Where a city is the seat of a court, where men of high 
education and breeding resort, there are, of course, superior 
influences, and a nobler and more cultivated style of manners 
generally appears. An Englishman remarked to me that he 
thought our country labored under a disadvantage in this 
respect, and that for want of a court we should for ever lack 
high and courtly breeding, I replied, that there might be 
some force in his remarks, but that he ought to bear in mind 
that the American people were all sovereigns, and that 
therefore they had naturally a sense of dignity quite peculiar 
to them ; and that wherever this was united to education 
and intercourse with the world, it might lead to a style of 
manners no less elevated and polished than what is found in 
the neighborhood of European courts, and would have the 
advantage of being more widely dilfused. Were the Eomans 
in the days of Augustus more polished than the Athenians 
in the days of Pericles ? 

And this leads me to another particular in the peculiar ad- 
vantages enjoyed by cities for intellectual cultivation. They 
are the proper and favorite seats of learning and the fine 
arts. Cities may be said to become so, because they contain 
the wealth required for creating institutions of learning, for 
making collections in the arts, and for sustaining and 
rewarding genius. And this, unquestionably, is one reason ; 



for no narrow scale of expenditure can suffice to endow great 
universities, and to raise up schools of art. And that spirit 
of liberality which belongs to flourishing and enlightened 
cities must attract both learned men and artists. 

But there is another reason which operates no less power- 
fully, and that is, ^that iiniversities and schools of art in a 
' great city possess an ample field in which to form an associ- 
ation of cultivated minds. Men of learning and artists 
require the fellowship of congenial spirits. They advance in 
knowledge and art, not merely by solitary thoughts and 
solitary efforts, but by conversation, by an exhibition of 
their works to minds capable of judging of them, by mutual 
and just criticism, and by noble emulation. A man ever 
contemplating himself in solitude, and removed from the 
opportunities of comparing himself with other men, whatever 
be his genius and attainments, is prone to become opinion- 
ated, prejudiced, and pedantic. To know ourselves aright, it 
is necessary to know others also. A man, indeed, finds 
good company in books, and in paintings and statues. But 
these are the works of men who have been. And is he, the 
solitary student, the only one who is striving to renew the 
glory of the past ? Perhaps there are others working as well 
or better than himself Why should he not know them, 
converse with them, and compare work with work ? If 
ordinary men feel the quickening power of daily converse 
.with society, how much more, methinks, must artists and 
men of learning and genius feel it ? 

Besides, artists cannot but desire to diffuse widely a taste 
for art, and men of learning a taste for learning. It is in the 
very nature of genius to give itself away to humanity. It 
seeks to create for itself a wide atmosphere in human hearts. 
It would be the radiant sun of a system. It possesses the 
godlike attribute of finding its blessedness in diffusing, in all 
life and thought, its own quickening spirit. Now when art 
and learning are collected in cities, they find right at hand 
a broad field of human hearts ready for them. And what 
is done here is not confined here, but the cities are fountains 
whence the streams flow out through all the land. 

Paris has always been the great seat of learning and 
art, in France. It contains the largest library in the 



20 

world. It contains one of the most extensive and noblest 
galleries of art in the world. It contains all possible 
schools of learning and art, where men of the high- 
est eminence give instruction to twenty thousand students. 
It contains, also, the Institute composed of all the great 
scholars of France, associated for the single purpose of 
promoting scientific discovery and every branch of learn- 
ing. It is easy to conceive how this congregation of, 
talent, genius, and learning, exerts its influence upon Paris, 
upon France, and upon the world. It is easy to conceive 
how that, thus concentrated, they gain a power which would 
be lost if they were dispersed abroad. It is easy to con- 
ceive, too, how that Paris is the spot, of all others in France, 
where this mighty accumulation of intellect could be most 
fitly made. 

Berlin is the work of Frederick the Great. That truly 
illustrious monarch, in the midst of war and disaster, never 
forgot the interests of learning. He laid the foundation of 
that noble system of public education which has been com- 
pleted by his enlightened successors. Berlin is, perhaps, 
the most distinguished seat of learning in the world. Its 
library, its collections in art, its university, its schools of 
every description, its great scholars, have made the very air 
redolent with thought, and its sunlight a symbol of diffusive 
knowledge.* 

Munich, the capital of the little kingdom of Bavaria, has 
grown up under the fostering energy of one man, and is 
quite a modern creation. At the close of the last century 
it was an inconsiderable town of mean appearance. Now 
it is a large and stately capital, filled with elegant buildings, 
distinguished for works of art and artists, and the seat of 
a large university and other schools of learning. Most of 
this has been accomplished in little more than a quarter of a 
century. Lewis, the late king of Bavaria, still living, but 
not occupying the throne, is the author of this marvellous 
change. Himself no mean poet, and an enthusiast in 
works of art, he collected around him distinguished men 
from all quarters. At one time there were in Munich 
from six to eight hundred artists, either bred and educated 

* Appendix I. 



21 

there, or attracted from other countries by the liberal patron- 
age of the king, and the atmosphere of taste and cultivation 
which he had created. 

The palace and the glyptotheh^ or gallery of sculpture, and 
the buildings connected with them, were erected, and the 
rich works of art which they contain, collected at his own 
expense. The rare collection of antique sculpture in the 
glyptothek was purchased by Lewis while he was yet a 
young man, and before he came to the throne, for about 
twenty -five thousand dollars. They are now worth four 
times that amount, if, indeed, they are capable of being 
valued in money. 

The pinacotheh, or picture gallery, was opened in 1836. 
It is a beautiful building. The interior is divided into nine 
stately halls, and twenty-three small cabinets adjoining, 
which together contain twelve hundred and seventy choice 
pictures, belonging to the different schools of painting. 

The cabinet of coins contains 20,000 Greek, 18,000 
Roman, and about 40,000 other medals. 

The museum of natural history is rich and interesting. 

The royal library is second only to the royal library at 
Paris, and contains about 500,000 volumes. 

The university comprises sixty professors and seventeen 
hundred students. 

The buildings of the library and university are plain and 
substantial, with an air of elegance, and admirably arranged. 

Munich, too, contains many noble monuments. Among 
these may be mentioned the Hall of Fame, a beautiful 
edifice, in the Grrecian style,and ornamented with appropriate 
historical and emblematical sculptures. It is designed to 
contain the busts and statues of the distinguished men of 
Bavaria. In front, on a pedestal twenty-eight feet high, stands 
a bronze colossal female statue, emblematical of Bavaria, 
sixty-two feet high. A bronze lion stands beside her ; 
with one hand she holds a sword, and with the other extends 
aloft a chaplet. Afar off can that majestic figure be seen, 
and yet, when you approach near to it, you almost forget the 
colossal proportions, in its beni nant and hfe-like beauty. 

Munich, with no natural advantages of situation, is made 
beautiful, nevertheless, by gardens and groves, and public 
walks and drives, as well as by the works of art. It is 



22 

altogether an enclianting citj. I have been the more par- 
ticular in my allusions to Munich, because it illustrates how 
much can be done in a short time, and that, too, bv a single 
individual, who, with the means, has the taste, liberality, and 
energy. The old king, retired from public life, is still as 
busy as ever in adorning the city, and in encouraging art 
and literature. He is now a private gentleman, devoting 
himself to these elegant pursuits. As long as Munich 
stands, it will be his monument. 

Paris, Berlin, and Munich, remarkable as they are for their 
intellectual and artistic developments, are remarkable also 
for their trade and manufactures. The influence of science 
and taste in the peculiar products of these cities is quite 
apparent. In all these cities there are institutions for the 
education of artisans, and science is largely applied to per- 
fect manufactures. 

London, in point of magnitude, surpasses all other cities. 
It is the commercial Emporium of the world. It is the great- 
est commercial Emporium that ever existed. As rapid and 
vast as the growth of London has been, that growth still 
continues. Although London, historically, is a very old city, 
yet the London of to-day is a modern city. Its enormous 
growth is the growth of our age, and not of centuries. But 
the growth of London is, well nigh, purely commercial. It 
has some noble institutions, such as the British Museum, and 
it has learned Societies which would do honor to any city ; 
and yet it is not distinguished for institutions of art and 
learning.* She is a modern Tyre — a modern Carthage ; were 
she also a modern Athens, how glorious she would appear. 
Such a union would make her the capital of modern civiliza- 
tion. Now she not only falls behind Paris, Berlin, and 
Munich ; she falls behind even Edinburgh. For as London 
is almost wholly commercial in growth, so Edinburgh may 
be said to be almost wholly literary, and rises up beneath 
those dim skies, a Northern Athens. 

The centre of London is the Bank of England : the centre 
of Edinburgh is the University. In London, the multitude 
pouring through the streets, the rush of omnibuses and cabs, 
the vast assemblage of shops, the steamers upon the Thames, 
the bridges over the Thames, the very walk, and look, and 

* Appendix II. 



23 

manner of speaking of the people — all give you but the. one 
idea of anxious, grasping trade ; in Edinburgh, life seems 
substantial indeed, but it is quiet and thoughtful, and you 
fancy, every now and then, that you can detect a poet or 
scholar among the people you meet. In London, people 
rush by each other without mutual recognition ; it seems 
a Avorld of strangers by some fatality brought together. In 
Edinburgh, old neighbors and friends smile at each other 
and exchange kind words as they pass along. 

You wish to get a view of London, and you ascend St. 
Paul's — St. Paul's itself is crowded to the very entrance by 
all sorts of shops: it seems like a monarch in his purple 
robes, and wearing his crown, jostled by a mob — and from 
the lofty dome what do you see ? Nothing but interminable 
streets, and masses of dingy houses with a smoky heaven 
above. It is no region of romance, poetry, and beauty ; it 
is the home of Rothchild & Co., of Baring, Brothers & 
Co. and of ten thousand other companies all driving at the 
one purpose — the modern home of the Cyclops, where they 
have taken human names, and put on pantaloons, coat and 
vest ; and laying aside their rude ancient sledge-hammer, 
have set at work a more complicated, nimble, and perfect 
machinery, for forging human wealth. 

You wish to get a view of Edinburgh, and you ascend 
Arthur's Seat, and below you lies the Old Town with Holy- 
rood at one end, and the Castle at the other, like a page of 
Ancient Eomance ; where "the houses are letters, and the 
streets are lines, — a black-lettg| writing curious and startling ; 
and there lies the new Town with Calton Hill rising like an 
Acropolis above it \ and Scott's monument looking over it, 
a town of wide, clean streets, with tasteful dwellings, where 
are the homes of Christopher North and Sir William Ham- 
ilton, and many other well known names. Light, airy, and 
graceful, the New Town contrasts with the Old as the Lady 
of the Lake contrasts with Spenser's Fairy Queen. And 
stretching the eye around, there rise up to view, the Pent- 
land hills, the Braid hills, the hills of Berwickshire, and the 
Highlands, with the Frith of Forth between ; — a wide-spread 
region of Poetry and Romance, of legend and history. 

But there are redeeming influences about London. The 
court and parliament bring together the intellect, the educa- 



24 

tion and refinement of the Eealm. London, too, bas in its 
bosom the noblest parks of any city in the world ; and in 
the neighborhood of these parks are magnificent streets of 
stately and tasteful dwellings, where the hum of business 
dies away in the quiet sounds of a more social and cultivated 
life. Then, too, in the vicinity of London, nay, in conse- 
quence of the railroads, one may say in its very suburbs, 
are found the ancient Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, 
redolent with classical associations and with the memory of 
illustrious names. Oxford and Cambridge supply to Lon- 
don some measure of the influence which the University of 
Paris supplies to Paris, the University of Berlin, to Berlin, 
and the University of Munich, to Munich. And they would 
supply it in a hundred-fold measure, if, separated from a 
church establishment, they were thrown open to all with 
the same freedom and liberality which characterize those 
other universities, we have named. A university standing 
in the very heart of a great city, naturally exerts a greater 
influence over the population, than one standing in the 
vicinity ; and yet, where that vicinity is immediate, and the 
communication rapid and easy, there is no difficulty in 
establishing an intercourse which shall identify their in- 
terests, and enable the one to permeate the other with its 
thoughtful vitality and power. And hence, as Oxford and 
Cambridge come to assume their proper form and character, 
as popular institutions, we may hope that they will become 
virtually the Universities of London, as the University of 
Tubingen is really the Unilprsity of Stuttgart, the capital 
of Wiirtemburg. 

To advance to another topic — we remark, that cities are 
peculiarly fitted to the institutions of religion and benevo- 
lence. The same causes, indeed, which make cities the cen-^ 
tres of intelligence, enterprise, and education, must go to 
make them, also, the centres of religious and benevolent in- 
fluence. The proper comprehension of religious truth re- 
quires a cultivated intelligence, while religious and benevo- 
lent sympathies are evidently more easily propagated where 
human hearts are congregated together. Eeligion, too, re- 
quires the force of example, no less than the inculcation of 
truth : and it is in cities that example can be multiplied and 
exert its full power. Benevolence, as a part of religion, is 



25 

not a mere sympathy, but an active principle. Eesolve it 
into the first, and it exhausts itself in delicious sentiment, 
and becomes a mere refinement of selfishness. To strengthen 
and perfect it, you must provide it with objects and occa- 
sions. It then grows into a fixed habit, and makes its pos- 
sessor an angel of God " appointed unto them that mourn, 
to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourn- 
ing, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, to 
bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty, and the 
opening of the prison to them that are bound," Now as it 
is in cities, where men of all characters and conditions live 
together, where the changes of fortune are most frequent as 
well as most apparent, where human passions, coming into 
the most direct conflict, require most the exercise of mutual 
forbearance, where the temptations to vice and folly, being 
most rife, exhibit their unhappy victims most frequently — 
so it is here that charity and benevolence find abundantly 
their objects and occasions. Hence we must here look for 
religious and benevolent institutions under their most per- 
fect forms, and for the finest developments of the religious 
and benevolent character. 

Facts accord with this view. The temples of religious 
worship have generally been planted in cities. The temple 
of the sun in Heliopolis, of Isis in Thebes, of Minerva in 
Athens, of the true God in Jerusalem, of St. Peter in 
Eonie, and the magnificent Gothic Cathedrals of the middle 
ages, as well as the most magnificent church edifices of 
modern times in the great cities of Europe, — all show the 
sentiment of religious worship concentrating itself in cities. 
The same remarks will apply, with equal truth, to charitable 
and benevolent institutions ; they have generally taken their 
localities, and found their support in cities. The history of 
Christianity from the beginning shows how closely its pro- 
gress has been connected with civic life. The first churches 
were established in cities, and when it became the prevailing 
religion, it was in cities that it received its fullest develop- 
ment, and formed its most powerful establishments. Indeed 
the etymology of the word Pagan^ which meant originally a 
peasant, or the inhabitant of a village, shows this fact. It 
came to indicate a heathen, because, while the cities embraced 
Christianity, the inhabitants of the villages or the peasantry 



26 

f 
retained the ancient idolatry. It is true that in our own 

day this distinction no longer exists ; and that the difference 

between the inhabitants of the country and of the city is not 

so marked, especially in our own land ; but this to a great 

extent is owing to the more intimate relationship between 

the two, created by the greater facilities of communication. 

This greater commingling of country and city, is both, a 

cause and indication of the more general spread of civilization 

which characterizes tbe age in which we live. Cities still 

bold their pre-eminence in religion, education, and arts — they 

are still the central points of intelligence, enterprise, and 

refinement ; but, performing their mission more perfectly, 

and spreading abroad their influences more easily and rapidly, 

they are bringing about a general conformity to a common 

standard of intellectual, moral, and social elevation. 

But while these tendencies of civic association towards all 
that goes to improve the race are thus manifest, it cannot be 
denied that there are many attendant evils which likewise 
grow out of it. 

We have already shown, in alluding to the bistor}^ of Car- 
thage, what a train of evils, ending in revolution and disso- 
lution, spring from the commercial element where it is allow- 
ed to absorb the entire civic life. 

Cities must always be exposed, too, to the evils of pride 
and luxury on the part of the rich ; and to the evils of 
extreme poverty, degradation, and crime, on the part of a 
very numerous class, arising from the disadvantages of birth 
and early education, or from the weakness of yielding to.*- 
temptations which always exist where wealth and population 
abound, or from inevitable misfortune. The difference of 
character and condition are prone to become extreme in 
cities. Everything has a ranker form and growth. The 
same principles of association which give such a stimulus to 
industry, education, and virtue, act also in the region of 
idleness, ignorance, and crime. The almshouse and prison 
are here, as well as the manufactory and the schools of learn- 
ing. As the dispositions to vice may be here more fully 
matured, so the opportunities of vice are more frequent. 
The city is the natural field of the demagogue and the exciter 
of seditions ; the securest hiding-place of the thief, the rob- 
ber, and the homicide. 



27 

Two of the worst forms of evil peculiar to city life, are the 
fictitious grandeur, growing out of a sudden and rapid 
accumulation of wealth ; and the idleness and dissipation 
attendant upon wealth inherited, unaccompanied by princi- 
ple, fine tastes, and education. Indeed they are evils very 
much of a piece, the first belonging to the mature and 
elderly, the second to the young. The possession of wealth 
affords the means of culture, but does not constitute it. A 
fine house and elegant furniture, books, and paintings, 
collected without judgment or taste, the adoption of unaccus- 
tomed etiquette, the use of liveries, the affectation of know- 
ledge and refinement, and fashionable entertainments, make 
the°mere Mrs. Potiphars of society. The more these are 
multiplied, the more society really retrogrades. The good 
homely virtues die out, and nothing remains but pride, 
pretension, and gaudy shows. 

With the Mrs. Potiphars, the Mr. Boosies are naturally 
linked. A more wretched specimen of humanity cannot be 
exhibited than a young man who is the mere inheritor of 
wealth, which a hard-working father amassed for him. The 
father had but one passion, the love of money. In indulg- 
ing this passion he neglected to educate his son, or to induct 
him into business. The son, on his part, aimed simply to 
make a gentleman of himself by the aid of the tailor, by 
practising the airs of an exquisite, and forming the habits of 
a roue, and resorting by turns to the fashionable assemblies, 
and to the haunts of dissipation. When the father died, the 
son had nothing to do but to work out his destiny, courted 
by mothers, charmed by daughters, and flattered by his 
hangers-on. The end of his career may easily be imagined. 
Soon ruined in health and fortune, he may have found an 
early grave, never to be named or thought of by the giddy 
crowd from among whom he disappeared like a bubble, 
among bubbles bursting a little sooner than the rest. Or 
finding a fit partner, he may have become a sort of reformed 
rake, and in an elegant establishment, he may still be living 
on insipid and imbecile', wearing the form, only to shame all 
the proper attributes, of a human being. A city is the hot- 
bed where such men and women may grow. We may have 
clowns and boors, and possibly semi-barbarians in the 
country, but it is in a city alone that we are to look for a 



28 

Mrs. Potiphar and a Mr. Boosy. It is refreshing to look to 
the rudest forms of life from such a culture as this. Men 
may grow out of the first in full proportions and strength ; 
the last is an absolute deterioration of the race which no- 
thing can restore. 

. What is the civic life, then, but a scene of conflicting ele- 
ments — a scene where good and evil appear, as in the 
whole history, and under all the phases of humanity, 
"mixed and contending?" But, nevertheless, there is a 
difference in cities which we cannot mistake ; and as we 
learn the elements which enter into their constitution, so we 
learn, also, how the different composition of these elements 
gives birth to all their varieties. And acknowledging that 
civilization receives its most perfect development under this 
mode of human existence, it becomes a great and interesting 
inquiry — what are the elements which enter into the proper 
constitution of cities, what are the evils to be eliminated, 
and what are the true principles of growth ? 

An answer in part, at least, to the inquiry may be collected 
from what we have already said, both in the way of discus- 
sion and historical review ; but it is still necessary to collect 
these principles into one succinct view. 

First. — It is quite evident that cities have their life and 
sustenance in the industrial arts and in commerce ; and that 
any other mode of subsistence provided for their population 
must end in deterioration and subversion. 

Secondly. — It is equally evident that religion and morality 
are essential elements of the proper civic life. Essential 
everywhere — the power without which humanity cannot be 
redeemed and elevated, they are the more essential where 
human beings are densely congregated, and where, conse- 
quently, they require the highest sanctions of social duties, 
and the most hallowed impulses to observe them. 

Thirdly. — Assuming the two former to be self-evident, 
and requiring no further illustration, I wish to call your at- 
tention particularly to two other elements which, although 
introduced, also, in the previous remarks, require, I think, 
some further notice in reference to our country at large, as 
well as to ourselves. These are the sentiment of local at- 
tachment, and the higher forms of intellectual and tasteful 
culture. 



29 

As to the first, we have seen its power in the history of 
Athens and Eome. These cities could never have been 
what they were without the sentiment of local attachment. 
All the earthly interests and hopes of the Athenian were 
concentrated about the Acropolis : all the earthly interests 
and hopes of the Eoman about the seven hills. The murmurs 
of the Ilyssus were sounds of home to the Athenian. The 
yellow Tiber turned up a paternal face to the Roman. To 
them all the world besides was barbarian and foreign. And 
they filled their cities v/ith all the adornments of art, and 
collected there all the appliances of learning, and made 
them the abodes of great men, and the favorite seats of the 
Grods. 

We observe the same fact in regard to all great and cele- 
brated cities. We see it in those cities we have named as 
distinguished for art and science — in Paris, Berlin, and Mu- 
nich, and others like them. Love for the city which is our 
home inspires us with a wish to embellish, enrich, and ele- 
vate it with whatever contributes to the finest culture and 
the purest pleasures of our being. And then, as we accom- 
plish this, we find the points of attraction continually mul- 
tiplying, and our home continually becoming dearer to us as 
it becomes more beautiful and contains more objects to ren- 
der it worthy of our love. 

Now, with respect to us, Americans, it cannot be denied 
that we possess a strong national pride and love. We are 
thoroughly American. But, surveying as we do, this vast 
stretch of country as our country, and prone as we are to 
shift our abode from place to place, from city to city, the 
truth is, we do not form strong local attachments. We go 
to some particular place, because we have a special object to 
accomplish there ; we go to stay there for a while, and then 
we are ready to go anywhere else. And hence we collect 
certain benefits in particular localities ; and when we go 
away we carry these away with us ; and, perhaps, leave no- 
thing behind as a memorial of our having been there. We 
all of us have too much of the backwoodsman in our nature, 
never remaining long enough anywhere to perfect civiliza- 
tion ; but always pressing onward to the boundaries of civi- 
lization to fell new trees, and to make new beginnings. As 
this prevents the perfect growth of any one part, so it leaves 



30 

the whole immature. Is it our destiny, I often ask myself, 
to be mere pioneers over this great «ontinent ; and must it 
be left to other generations to found, in beauty and gran- 
deur, the institutions of a high civilization ? In other ages, 
in other nations, the first generations have sunk into obli- 
vion, or live only in uncertain legends. So it was with 
Grreece and Rome. But it was something to preserve the 
Iliad and the Odyssey, the Cyclopean walls, the Etruscan 
marbles and vases, and the story of Eomulus and Eemus. 
What glorious epics, what massive works, what beautiful re- 
mains, what heroic legends have we to give to other times? 
I know the foundation of our Republic, the heroes of our 
Revolution, are given in charge to immortality. But even 
these cannot be given in charge to immortality, without the 
man of letters and of art — the historian, the poet, the pain- 
ter, the sculptor. But what are the men of to-day doing for 
immortality ? 

Ah ! it may be we have done something. I bethink me 
of that sternwarte^ as the Germans call it, that watcher of the 
stars, which the bounty of some of the people of my West- 
ern home has erected upon a neighboring hill ; whence the 
Gralileo of some future age will still be watching and reading 
the stars ; and then, as often as he descends from his azure 
seat to tell the world of some new field of light, he will stop 
and read the names upon its tablet, and recall the age and 
the men who erected for him those steps towards the hea- 
vens. These are the things that make us to be remembered. 

When I look around upon that rare and. beautiful locality 
— the river, the hills, the 'plains sloping to the water, the 
relation of that one point to all around, I hear the voice 
of the G-enius of the place inviting to build and improve and 
adorn ; to plant institutions ; to erect temples to Minerva, 
Apollo, and the Muses ; to revive the grove of Academus ; 
to spread the garments of beautiful art over the form of 
beautiful nature — to make an Athens in the West. 

And as he gives this invitation, I hear him cheering to the 
work by promising plenty from the fields, prosperity from 
the useful arts, and the commerce on the waters, and untold 
treasures from exhaustless mines. And he tells iis to make 
that spot a beautiful home, and to fill it with all home at- 
tractions belonging to the higher and holier part of our be- 



81 

ng; and not to leave to another generation to do the work 
which we can do ; but to reap from the ripened fields a har- 
vest of immortality for ourselves. That what we nurture 
now upon the banks of the Huron is destined to become the' 
ahna mater, the fair intellectual mother of many children ; 
modestly retiring from our more public places, that she may 
hear the songs of the Naiads and the Nymphs, but near 
enough to infuse her gentle yet kindling influences into that 
manly strength which is building cities and laboring at all 
useful improvements ; like the queen of love and beauty 
watching over the son of Anchises, when he built Lavi- 
nium in the west as the new home of the Lares which he 
had transported from the east. 

Cities in our country have generally grown up from com- 
merce and manufactures; this was unavoidable. In a new 
country of such vast material resources, where enterprise 
pursues its natural direction in perfect freedom, and where 
wars do not arise to oppose any serious obstacles, material 
causes must take the lead in the first development. But it 
is not necessary that those causes should continue to predo- 
minate after we have become conscious of a substantial .and 
secure existence. Then the place and the opportunity are 
opened for intellectual causes to operate. Then public spirit 
may receive the infusion of higher elements, and impel to 
~ intellectual and tasteful culture, and to corresponding works. 

I have spoken of works that immortalize. You will par- 
don me for afdrming that mere works of utility, although ly- 
ing at the foundation of national growth, are not the works 
that immortalize when they exist alone. Commerce and ma- 
nufactures are changeful and progressive, and the works of 
one generation are swept away by the works of the next. The 
improvements of one generation do indeed introduce the, 
higher improvements of the next ; but the old and abrogated 
are ever prone to be forgotten in the new. The JSTew Fork 
of to-day is not the New York of fifty years ago ; and fifty 
years hence where will the New York of to-day be ? The 
city has not only advanced 'in magnitude, it has also been 
rebuilt. The palaces of the last generation were forsaken 
and turned into boarding-houses, then pulled down and re- 
placed by warehouses. He who erects his magnificent palace 
on the Fifth Avenue to-day, has only fitted out a future" 



32 

boarding-house, and probably occupied the site of a future 
warehouse. Were New York now to experience the fate of 
Athens, or Eome, or Yenice, she woaild leave to the world no 
memorials whatever. There would be no massive and beau- 
tiful remains of architecture to strew the ground, or to stand 
here and there in pillared and imperishable magnificence ; no 
statues, no frescoes, no epics, and no old and sacred institu- 
tions of learning to be resorted to by pilgrims and scholars, 
when her harbor should no more be crowded by the com- 
merce of the world. What would she be but a mere mass 
of bricks and clay and sunken sewers ! 

And if she goes on increasing and flourishing, must not 
all the works of the present busy and prosperous generation 
sink into insignificance, and leave not a trace behind in the 
more magnificent prosperity of generations that follow ? 
Shall we not be forgotten, as we have forgotten our 
fathers ? 

But discoveries in science, and works of literature and art, 
cannot be thus forgotten ; nor can the generation and age 
and the place be forgotten to which they belong. The age 
of Pericles, the age of Augustas, the age of Elizabeth, men 
will for ever talk about with enthusiasm, for they are im- 
mortalized in the works of Phidias, and Yirgil, and Shake- 
^speare. Utilities supplant each other, but works of litera- 
ture and art cannot supplant each other. Utilities are 
changeable, but thought and beauty are, like the sun in the 
heavens, ever shining and never exhausted. All the tem- 
ples which have since been built, do not prevent men from 
going to look at the ruins of the Parthenon ; all the poems 
which have since been written, do not prevent men from 
reading the Iliad : all the statues which have since been 
sculptured; do not eclipse the beauty of the Apollo of the 
Yatican, or of the Yenus of Florence. All the paintings to 
the end of time, will not lessen by comparison Eaphael's 
picture of the Transfiguration in Eome, or his Madonna in 
Dresden. Utility may not yet have developed the highest 
comforts ; or fancy may change one comfort for another ; 
but the laws of thought and beauty are fixed, and their 
genuine productions are sealed for immortality. Great errors 
are committed, therefore, when the growth of a city is directed 
by mere utility — where commerce rules alone, and thought 



88 

and beauty are allowed to take no part, or are degraded into 
the condition of mere tire-women of luxury and vanity. 

He- who would contribute to the improvement of his age, 
instead of seeking an evanescent popularity, should speak 
out his truthful convictions. We may sing to a people 
songs of flattery, and hush them into a sweet slumber of 
self-complacency. Is it not more manly and wiser to unveil 
to them the majestic countenance of truth, even if it should 
wear an expression of rebuke? And acting out this sentiment, 
are we not constrained to say that the cities of America 
are, at this moment, with scarcely an exception, elevating 
utility above thought and beauty ? 

Let us look again at New York, our great commercial Em- 
porium, Possessing an unrivalled situation for commerce, it is 
no less remarkable for natural beauty. Its two majestic rivers, 
its bay filled with islands ; its opposite shores bold and pictur- 
esque ; and the great island on which the city stands, itself 
possessing a variegated surface ; altogether here was a combi- 
nation by which nature invited art no less than commerce. 
Where the Tombs now stands, there was once a little lake 
which connected with the Hudson, by an outlet through Ca- 
nal-street. Near the lake was a hill with a natural and abun- 
dant fountain. Had the shores of that lake been terraced 
and planted with trees, had the hill and fountain been pre- 
served and embellished, had the outlet been left open and 
spanned with tasteful bridges, how charming that portion of 
the city would have been ! Now there are the Tombs and 
mean shops and dwellings ; the hill with its fountain is sunk 
to fill up the lake, and the running stream is changed into 
a covered sewer. How many beautiful elevations have 
been removed to reduce the city to one unvarying level — so 
level that the water stagnates in the gutters, at the expense of 
health, as well as of beauty. Hitherto, no large parks have 
been made, and we see houses jammed along narrow streets. 
The upper portion of the city may yet be redeemed, but the 
beauty of the lower is gone for ever. No magic can restore 
the hills, the fountains, lakes and streams ; and the dense 
mass of buildings can never be removed, for parks with 
trees and flowers. The heights of Brooklyn, the shores of 
Hoboken, might have been preserved for enchanting public 
grounds. They too are lost for ever. Warehouses occupy 

3 



84 

the one, and mean dwellings are crowding over tlie other. 
It is true, indeed, that these were private property, and the 
owners could not be expected to sacrifice their interests to 
adorn the city. But then, the city might have purchased these 
grounds, and made them sacred to nobler and more needed 
uses. In such a case, commerce might have wisely made a 
sacrifice. And yet it is demonstrable that no real utility 
would have been lost. Nature, who had formed the harbor, 
had given space enough to commerce besides those rare 
spots which she herself had consecrated to the spirit of 
beauty. 

There was required for the management of such a city, 
men of the highest cultivation and taste. But here was com- 
mitted the very error which we have already described. New 
York was filled with men of all nations, and men from every 
part of the Union, who seemed to congregate here only for one 
purpose — to make money. They had no time to become the 
fathers of the city. Totally absorbed in the one purpose, they 
heard not the voice of the Grenius of the place ; they formed 
no strong local attachment. The men who might be sup- 
posed capable of giving a right direction to the public coun- 
sels, kept aloof, and pursued their own prosperous business. 
I have heard such declare that New York was a commercial 
city, and could be nothing else. How could they forget 
Athens, and Yenice, and Genoa, and Florence I And what 
has been the result? A class of men rose up from among 
the lower strata of the populace, who made it their business 
to manage the city ; they took upon themselves to be the fa- 
thers of the city. They imposed taxes, and got into their 
possession a treasury of enormous riches. They had not 
the capacity, the taste, or the will to adorn and improve the 
city : but they plundered it from year to year — they plundered 
it of more money than Frederick the Grreat expended upon 
Berlin; than Lewis of Bavaria expended upon Munich ; — they 
plundered it of money enough to have created a University, 
galleries of art, and every form of culture ; and to have em- 
bellished the city with parks and public gardens. 

It is just now that the holders of property, at last driven 
to desperation, have entered into a conflict with the holders 
of the Treasury ; and we have witnessed in our times the 
strange spectacle of bills of indictment and imprisonment 



35 
\ 
threatened against the city legislators and go vernors —the 
city fathers ! 

We shall have to wait to see the end of the conflict. A 
temporary victory, a temporary reform, will sharpen the op- 
posite party to a sterner conflict. It will take years to re- 
medy the evil, if it be remedied at all. One thing is certain, 
it can never be remedied unless men of intellect, taste, worth, 
and honesty, enter zealously and devotedly into public 
affairs; and unless love for the city, and ambition for its 
intellectual and tasteful development supplant the mere 
ambition of commercial prosperity. 

The history of cities proves conclusively that they require 
for their proper government, as well as growth, the wide in- 
fusion of the spirit of intellectual and tasteful culture. Com- 
mon school education is not sufficient, for this is mainly a 
business education. Even religion is not enough, for there 
are multitudes whom religion does not adequately reach. 
And if religion could be brought to bear powerfully upon 
the entire population of a city, its wise, elevating, and benig- 
nant spirit would sanction and inspire the cultivation of the 
nobler parts of human nature. And what police can govern 
a city contrary to the will of the populace, where they them- 
selves are created by the votes of the populace ? 

A great city requires in its bosom, or in its proximity, a 
University where the youth of fortune can employ their time 
in attaining to high culture, instead of filling hours of idle- 
ness with insane and ruinous dissipation : and where all of 
every condition, who feel disposed, may gain the most per- 
fect forms of education. ■ [ A great city requires in its bosom 
all the humanizing influences which the presence of works 
of art and public libraries, and institutions of art and learn- 
ing, can exert over the population at large. In Paris, where 
there is a naturally excitable and turbulent populace, it is 
easy to perceive the influence of a universal refinement in 
restraining them, arising from these sources. JSTo one can be 
in Berlin or in Munich without perceiving a general tasteful- 
ness, decency, and order among the people, evidently arising 
from the free access they have to the libraries and galleries 
of art. 

The multitudes of a city crave excitement and amusement. 
Provide them with beautiful public gardens and places of 



86 

culture, and they will generally be content. Leave them 
without cultivation to provide amusement for themselves, 
and need we be surprised if intemperance, debauchery, and 
riot ensue ? 

To give this high tone to cities, men of taste and educa- 
tion must be attracted to them, to infuse a spirit of culture 
into society : and men of taste and education in a city, 
should combine their efforts to this end. 

Men of wealth, too, as well as men of education, should be 
deeply alive to this object. Native good sense can judge of 
its importance even where the opportunities of high educa- 
tion have not been enjoyed. Besides, if it were estimated 
only in its pecuniary bearings, it would claim the attention of 
every political economist. The example of New York is suffi- 
cient to prove this. The scenes we have witnessed here would 
never have existed, had the innocent and elevating amuse- 
ments of taste and culture been plentifully provided, and an 
aesthetic sense, or sense of the beautiful, been made to per- 
vade the populace. Our attention is frequeritly called in 
this city, to large donations made by the living, and large 
bequests left by the dead, to benevolent societies. These 
are good and noble-minded men who bestow these charities, 
and they bestow them upon worthy objects. But it is re- 
markable that so little is given to found institutions of art 
and learning. I know of but two distinguished instances ; 
that of the late Mr. Astor, who left $300,000 to found a 
public library ;* and that of Mr. Cooper, who in his life- 
time has contributed an equal amount to found a Lyceum 
and public lectures for mechanics.f We have no monarchs 
in this country to do this thing for us ; nor do we want them. 
We have individuals as rich as King Lewis of Bavaria, who 
could emulate his example. And he, after all, has done 
more as a man, than as a king. And if rich individuals 
will not do this, the association of many individuals with 
moderate means can do it. In whatever way it is done, it 
is a most necessary and noble work. * 

To the rich, I would say, love your city, love your homes, 
and become wise benefactors to your city and your homes. 
Have a higher ambition than merely to die the richest men. 

* Appendix III. f Appendk IV. 



37 

How soon your possessions will be dispersed after you are 
gone — how soon you yourselves will be forgotten if you 
leave nothing but your money behind you ! JSTow while 
you are living erect for yourselves obelisks and pyra- 
mids, not inscribed with unintelligible hieroglyphics — mere 
voiceless tombs ; but written all over with words of wis- 
dom, presenting forms of beauty, and diffusing for ages, 
after you have slept your last sleep, the quickening and 
hallowing influences of truth and goodness, that men may 
rise up and bless your memories, and repeat your names as 
charmed words, and gather inspiration to worthy deeds from 
your example. ^ ' 

To all I would say — and especially to the young men, 
Be not contented — alas ! like the great masses of our race — 
merely to live and die. Life is a glorious gift if you use it 
worthily. To use it worthily it must not be a separate soli- 
tary life, for yourself, or merely in the bosom of your 
family. It must be a life in the public life — a life of public 
as well as private duty — a life making its mark upon the 
community of which each is one. Let each one in his good 
capacities be a fountain of life sending forth a clear stream 
into the open sunshine ; and let the kindred streams all flow 
together, to make one broad deep stream, with verdant 
banks where grow the perennial trees whose leaves and 
fruits are for the healing of the nations. 



APPENDIX. 



' PRUSSIAN SYSTEM OF EDUCATIOISr. 

In 1833, M. Yictor Cousin, the great French philosoptier, 
published his report on the system of public instruction in 
Germany, and particularly in Prussia. Sir William Hamil- 
ton, the compeer of Cousin in the walks of philosophy, and 
on some questions his opponent, reviewed this report in the 
Edinburgh Eeview, and thus first called public attention in 
England and in this country to the German system of edu- 
cation, and to the educational reform then in progress in 
Erance, Cousin's report was also translated by Mrs, Austin, 
and extensively circulated in England and America, 

Some years afterwards, Professor Stowe visited Prussia 
and other parts of Germany, and on his return made a report 
to the Legislature of Ohio. This report was afterwards re- 
printed by the Legislature of Massachusetts. Subsequently 
to this, Horace Mann, having visited the same countries, 
brought the German system again before the public, and was 
instrumental in establishing in Massachusetts the first Nor- 
mal School in our country. 

Sir William Hamilton opens his review as follows : — 
" The perusal of these documents has afforded us the high- 
est gratification. We regard them as marking an epoch in 
the progress of national education, and directly conducive to 
results important not to Erance only, but to Europe. The 
institutions of Germany for public instruction we have long 
known and admired. We saw these institutions accomplish- 
ing their end to an extent and to a degree elsewhere unexam- 
pled : and were convinced that if other nations attempted an 
improvement of their educational policy, this could only be 
accomplished rapidly, surely, and effectually, by adopting, 
as far as circumstances would permit, a system thus approved 
by an extensive experience and the most memorable success." 

After noticing the progress of educational reform in 
Erance, the distinguished reviewer proceeds : 



S9 

" Such was the memorable progress made previous to tlie 
commencement of the present year, when the important lavf 
on primary instruction was ratified. But this progress and 
this law were professedly the offspring of experience. Of 
what experience ? Not of the experience of France, — of the 
very country whose whole educational system stood in need 
of creation or reform, but of that country whose institutions 
for instruction were, by all competent to an opinion, acknow- 
ledged to afford the highest model of perfection. In resolv- 
ing to profit by the experience of the Grerman States, and in 
particular of Prussia, we cannot too highly applaud the wis- 
dom of the French government. Nor could a wiser choice 
have been made of an individual to examine the nature of 
the pattern institutions, and to report in regard to the mode 
of carrying their accommodation into effect. M. Cousin, by 
whose counsel it is probable that the plan was originally re- 
commended, was, in the summer of 1831, commissioned to 
proceed to Germany ; and his observations on the state of 
education in that country, transmitted from time to time to 
the Minister of Public Instruction, constitute the present re- 
port. No one could certainly have been found better quali- 
fied to judge ; no one from whom there was less cause to ap- 
prehend a partial judgment. A profound and original 
thinker, a lucid and elegant writer, a scholar equally at home 
in ancient and modern learning, a philosopher superior to all 
prejudices of age or country, party or profession, and whose 
lofty eclecticism, seeking truth under every form of opinion, 
traces its unity even through the most hostile systems ; — M. 
Cousin was from his universality both of thought and acquire- 
ment, the man in France able adequately to determine what 
a scheme of national education ought in theory to accom- 
plish; and from his familiarity with German literature and 
philosophy, prepared to appreciate in all its bearings what 
the German national education actually performs. Without 
wavering in our admiration of M. Cousin's character and 
genius, we fully expressed on a former occasion our dissent 
from certain principles of his philosophy ; and with the same 
sincerity we now declare, that from the first page of his re- 
port to the last, there is not a statement nor opinion of any 
moment in which we do not fully and cordially agree. 
This work indeed recommends itself as one of the most un- 
biassed wisdom. Once persecuted by the priests, M. Cousin 
now fearlessly encounters the derision of another party, as 
the advocate of religious education ; nor does the memory 
of national calamity and of personal wrong withhold him 
from pronouncing the Prussian government the most en- 
lightened in Europe. He makes no attempt to soothe the 



40 

vanity of his countrymen at the expense of truth ; and his 
work is throughout a disinterested sacrifice of self to the im- 
portance of its subject. His ingenuity never tempts him 
into unnecessary speculation ; practice already approved by 
its result, is alone anxiously proposed for imitation, — relative 
and gradual ; and the strongest metaphysician of France 
traces the failure of the educational laws of his country to 
their metaphysical character. The report is precisely what 
it ought to be — a work of details ; but of details so admi- 
rably arranged, that they converge naturally of themselves 
into general views; while the reflections by which they are 
accompanied, though never superficial, are of such transpa- 
rent evidence as to command instant and absolute assent. 
This is indeed shown in the result. The report was pub- 
lished. In defiance of national self-love and the strongest 
national antipathies, it carried conviction throughout France : 
a bill framed by its author for primary education, and found- 
ed on its conclusions, was almost immediately passed into a 
law; and M. Cousin himself, now a peer of France, appointed 
to watch over and direct its execution. Nor could the philo- 
sopher have been intrusted with a more congenial office ; for, 
in the language of his own Plato, — ' Man cannot propose a 
higher and holier object for his study, than education.' And 
M. Cousin's exertions, we are confident, will be crowned with 
the success and honor to which they are so well entitled. The 
benefit of his legislation cannot, indeed, be limited to France : 
a great example has there been set, which must be elsewhere 
followed ; and other nations with his own will bless the philo- 
sopher for their intelligent existence. ' Juventutem recte for- 
mare,' says Melancthon, ' paulo plus est quam expugnare Tro- 
jam ;' and to carry back the education of Prussia into France, 
affoids a nobler, if a bloodless, triumph, than the trophies of 
Austerlitz and Jena." 

Thus has the Prussian system of education received the 
unqualified approbation of two of the greatest philosophers 
living, and two of the most competent judges on the subject 
of education. 

Sir AVilliam Hamilton is the author of the remarkable ar- 
ticles in the Edinburgh Review on the English Universities, 
and on the state of education in England generally. These 
articles, by a profound, just, and severe criticism, have ex- 
posed the educational defects of England just as clearly as 
they have set forth the manifold excellence of the German 
system. 

In 1824, in England, out of a population of nine millions 
and a half, there were two millions without schools for their 



41 

children ; and in London alone, over one fourth of the in-' 
habitants were thus destitute. 

In Prussia, on the contrary, at the same time, there were 
25,000 primary teachers, and 1,664,218 children of both 
sexes, taught in the primary schools. Since that the num- 
ber has greatly increased. 

In our own country we have been conforming more and 
more to the Prussian system in our primary and normal 
schools; while, omitting the Gymnasia and Universities, we 
have retained the English collegiate system, adhering to the 
charmed circle of four years, and vainly endeavoring to press 
into it all branches of human knowledge. 

I hope I shaJl be pardoned for inserting here an extract 
from a report made to the Board of Eegents of the Univer- 
sity of Michigan in 1853. 

"II. The features of the Prussian system may in general be stated 
as follows : 

"1. It is ideal. I mean by this, that it does not measure itself by 
the wants of any mere profession or pursuit. Its governing principle 
is not mere commercial utility. It does not inquire how much mo- 
ney will this or that form, this or that degree of education bring. 
It assumes that men must be educated because they are men, and 
that they may be fitted to discharge properly all the duties which so- 
ciety imposes upon them. Education is the necessary training of the 
human being, that without which his proper humanity cannot appear. 
It is necessary to him, as an intellectiial and moral creature, as air, 
light, and food are necessary to him as a physical creature. 

" 2. It is universal. By this I mean that education is in certain de- 
grees brought over the whole population, and in all degrees is open 
to all who may choose it, or who are in a condition to avail themselves 
of it. Every parent in Prussia is compelled to send his children to 
school until fourteen years of age. There is only one exception : 
children may enter a manufactory at twelve years of age, but then 
the proprietor is obliged to provide a school for their further educa- 
tion. When the parent is unable to pay for the education of his 
children, the State provides for them. The same is true of the Gym- 
nasium. In the University, also, the student may pursue his studies 
although unable to pay the fees at the time. In this case, he is bound 
to pay afterwards whenever he gets an employment yielding an 
income. 

" Education in general is of three degrees : the primary^ which ex- 
tends to the fourteenth year; the intermediate, which is furnished in 
the Gymnasium, and comprises a preparation for the University^ ex- 
tending ordinarily to the nineteenth year; and the University^ which 
has no limited term, but affords scope for milimited progress in 
knowledge. 

" There are besides, special schools for Artists, Mechanics, Engi- 
neers, Manufacturers, and Agriculturists. These follow the primary 



42 

school, or the Gymnasium, and are a sort of University education for 
pursuits more particularly connected with the construction of public 
works, the embellishments of taste, and the leading arts of industry. 

" The Normal Schools are an essential adjunct of the system. 
Their sole object is to prepare competent teachers for the primary 
schools. The course extends through three years. A primary school 
is always connected with the Normal School. In this, during the last 
year, the Normal scholars are introduced to the practical business of 
teaching. 

" 3. All the parts are harmonious. There is nothing like conflict 
in the system. One part cannot live at the expense of another. On 
the contrary, the parts mutually imply, demand, and sustain each 
other. The Normal School sustains the Primary School. The Pri- 
mary School culminates in the Gymnasium, the Gymnasium in the 
University. And the University pours life into the whole. The 
University furnishes teachers for the Gymnasium and the Normal 
Schools; raises up professional men and scholars — the men who, un- 
derstanding the true principles of education, disseminate them ; and, 
in fine, is the great and perennial fountain of knowledge, the ahna 
mater of learned men, and the resplendent sun of the intellectual 
system. 

" 4. It is thorough. This appears, first, in the fact that no incom- 
petent teachers are admitted into any of the departments of educa- 
tion, while ample preparations are made for securing competent teach- 
ers. This, indeed, is the mainspring of the educational system. It 
is a general and common sense principle, that if you would have 
gbod work done, you must find a good workman." 

" Secondly. The educational course is made to extend through a 
sufficient number of years to enable the work of education to be 
properly conducted and completed. 

"Thirdly. The principles of education have been investigated, and 
education itself is thus reduced to a science and an art. Hence the 
branches of knowledge are made to follow each other in due order 
and proportion, and the methods of instruction are based upon the 
constitution of the human mind. 

" Fourthly. Every necessary appliance is provided in libraries, appa- 
ratus, and models, so that every form of knowledge may be reached 
and illustrated. 

" Lastly. A public opinion has been created which, on the one 
hand, frowns upon shallow pretension and sciolism and debars from 
rank, dignity, and influence the man who is ambitious of distinction 
without possessing the qualifications which entitle him to it : and 
which, on the other hand, reverences and honors genius, talent, and 
learning. x\lexander Von Humboldt, at this moment, is, in the esti- 
mation of his countrymen, the most princely man in Prussia. 

" 5. It is practical. This does not contradict the ideal character 
upon which I have remarked above. The man, when he is truly 
educated as a man, is best fitted for all the duties of a man, and for 
all the employments of human life. In accordance with this, while 
the ideal conception determines the aim, the method, and the means, 



48 

you perceive that the Prussian system takes particular cognizance of 
all the forms of human activity — of all the arts of industry. The 
Eoyal Artisans' Institute, of Berlin, is furnished with the most able 
teachers, -with a complete library and scientific periodicals, wi h 
workshops and models, with laboratories, and philosophical appa- 
ratus ; and sends out from year to year the best practical chemists, 
engineers, and house builders. The Royal Academy of Arts, which 
affords the best instruction in the arts of design, was attended, when 
I was there, by two hundred artists, and thirteen hundred mechanics. 
Indeed, throughout the kingdom, there are schools of this descrip- 
tion which are dependencies of the large institutions of the Capital. 

" The result is seen in the substantial and elegant character of their 
public works, in the perfection of their manufactures and all the pro- 
ducts of the mechanical arts, and in that wonderful agriculture 
which extorts plenty from a barren soil. Prussia labors under the 
disadvantages of a despotic government with an expensive court, a 
large standing army, and the consequent imposition of burdensome 
taxes ; and yet the cities, villages, and open country exhibit unques- 
tionable signs of prosperity. 

" Berhn, an inland city, is at this moment rapidly growing by the 
farce of industrial activity. The seat of a great University and of 
every description of schools, the city of world-renowned scholars, is 
also a city of merchants, manufacturers, and mechanics. The in- 
tellectual life is the very life of national prosperity. 

" 6. It is economical. Primary School education, we have said, is 
universal. No one can escape from it. Education in the Gymna- 
sium must likewise be accessible to a very large portion of the popu- 
lation, since it costs only about sixteen dollars a year. And let it be 
recollected that this education is fully equal to what is gained in our 
colleges. This may be taken as a type of the whole, including the 
Universities. In no part of the woj'ld, I believe, is education so 
cheap, except where it is entirely gratuitous. 

"Board and lodging for students iij the Prussian towns is cor- 
respondingly cheap. The economy of education, as well as the taste 
for it, will go to account for the large number of students who fre- 
quent the Universities. 

"7. It possesses freedom. I do not mean by this a freedom of idle- 
ness, recklessness, and folly, and consequent ignorance and ignominy ; 
but freedom of choice and of thought in the pursuit of knowledge. 
In the Primary and Normal schools, and Gymnasium, there is a 
strict method and discipline, one calculated to insure the end con- 
templated. And yet there is a genial air thrown over the whole. 
The students appear happy, because their pursuits are noble, and are 
conducted in such a way as to give a constant sense of success. The 
strictness does not lie in any arbitrary imposition, but in the thing it- 
self. Study in its very nature is strict, for it consists in attention 
and thought. Education implies, necessarily, an observance of order 
and rule, for it is a normal exercise of the mental faculties for the 
purpose of developing them. Now the Prussian system leads, 
guides, and commands without violence and tyranny, because, adapt- 



ing itself to the nature of the human mind, it determines it to edu- 
cation through that very exercise of the attention and the reasoning 
power in which are reahzed the personal freedom of the human be- 

"The course in the Gymnasium is calculated not only for the at- 
tainment of a certain amount of knowledge, but also for the attain- 
ment of the art of study and investigation. Then, when the student 
leaves the Gymnasium and enters the University a new sphere is 
opened to him, and new methods are propounded adapted to the 
culture he has already gained. 

"Having surveyed the field of knowledge, and secured its funda- 
mental elements, and acquired the art of study, he is now prepared 
to work out a course for himself. Here are before him eminent pro- 
fessors delivering lectures on every branch of human knowledge. 
Here is provided a library and every means of investigation to meet 
his utmost wishes and wants. Henceforth, to the end of life, he 
must conduct his own education ; and he is introduced to the higher 
responsibilities of this manly and independent career under the 
auspices of the University. He now chooses for himself, and acts 
for himself, but in an open field, and under a clear sun-light. The 
scene is one of perfect intellectual freedom on all hands. The pro- 
fessors are under no restriction in thinking, discussing, and lecturing. 
The student is under no compulsion in his choice of professors, sub- 
jects of study, books, and methods of investigation. He may be as 
self-determined and original as he pleases. The very air of a Ger- 
man University breathes of freedom, and nothing but freedom. In- 
deed the intellectual freedom has not unfrequently wandered into the 
region of politics, and the government has been startled by the free 
and noble play of the creatures which it had itself turned loose into 
the verdant pastures of truth.* 

" In the University every student may study what he pleases, and 
as long as he pleases. He may devote himself to philosophy, to a 
particular science, or to preparation for a profession. If he wishes 
to take a degree or to enter upon a profession, then he must pass the 
ordeal of a very rigid examination. He is free to study, but if he 
aim at a definite end, he knows he must prepare for it. He is under 
the same responsibilities which meet us throughout life, where we 
indeed form our own characters and shape our own course, but un- 
der a moral certainty that we shall reap as we sow." 



* It has been charged against Prussia that her Primary schook are mere 
instruments of despotism, and that hence the whole system of Education is 
radically corrupt. That allegiance to the King is there taught, cannot be 
denied. If beyond this there are principles infused into the course of in- 
struction calculated to degrade the people, it is only as an abuse which might 
be practised under any system of Education in a despotic country, and has 
nothing to do with the system itself The pedagogical character of the sys- 
tem is one thing, the political and religious principles taught are quite ano- 
ther thing. When we adopt the Prussian system of Education, it does not 
follow that we must use the books, and teach allegiance to the King of 
Prussia. ; 



45 
II. 

LONDON". 

The Eojal Society of London is one of the highest dig- 
nity. It does not, however, belong peculiarly to London, 
but is national in its character, its most eminent members 
often having their residence out of the city. The same is 
true of the learned societies of London generally. They 
meet in London, as Parliament meets there, because there is 
the great national centre. They collect learned men there 
at stated times, they may lead some to make it their perma- 
nent residence, they exert an influence more or less exten- 
sive upon society ; but they cannot be said to give a cha- 
racter to London like that which the University of Edin- 
burgh gives to Edinburgh, the University of Paris to Paris, 
and the University of Berlin to Berlin, 

Nothing in a great city can take the place of a great Uni- 
versity. This alone can adequately collect learned men, 
give them a permanent residence, and enable them to exert 
their proper influence upon the community. A University, 
according to its proper definition, is a collection of eminent 
scholars in every department of learning, associated for the 
two-fold purpose of advancing knowledge, and educating 
men. Learned societies naturally springout of them and can- 
not exist without them. Hence a city of learned societies 
without a University must collect its members from abroad. 

Even large libraries, like that of the British Museum, can- 
not reach their proper efficiency when not directly connected 
with Universities ; for the latter supply the men who can 
put the former to account. A large library without a cor- 
responding University, is like a vast machine shop without 
workmen. Here and there an ingenious individual may be 
found who will go in and make some practical use of the 
tools ; but this will furnish a poor substitute for the regular 
and steady workmen. 

In speaking of London it will be seen that we have com- 
pared her only with other European cities. The comparison 
will be more to her advantage if we compare her with the 
great Commercial Emporium of our own continent. jSTew 
York, as a seat of commerce, is second only to London; 
and the day perhaps is not far distant when she may be- 
come the first commercial city of the world. At the pre- 
sent rate of increase, it has been calculated that at the close 
of the present century New York will contain five millions 
of inhabitants. But New York is more purely and in- 



46 

tensely commercial than London. Perhaps no city was 
ever so exclusively commercial, if we except ancient Car- 
thage. In the higher forms of culture, in learned societies, 
in a taste for the arts, and in museums and libraries,* New 
York not only falls far behind London, at the present time, 
but it must be confessed also that indications of advancing 
upon London in these respects, in the future, are not ap- 
parent. The commercial competition is unquestionable, but 
nothing farther than this can be affirmed. 

The difference between the Crystal Palace of ISTew York 
and that of London, in its beginning, progress, and ending, is 
one of those facts which are said to speak volumes. 

Both, palaces were built by private subscription. The 
London Palace, 1851 feet long, 408 wide, and covering eight- 
een acres of ground, and filled with noble specimens of the 
industrial and plastic arts of all nations, met the expecta- 
tions of its founders, and was completely successful. 

But this Avonderful enterprise was only introductory to 
another still more wonderful. The palace has been removed 
and reconstructed on an enlarged plan at Sydenham, where 
three hundred acres of ground have been purchased for a 
park. This, too, is the work of a company of stockholders. 

The design was " to form a palace — the first marvellous 
example of a new style of architecture — for the multitude, 
where at all times protected from the inclement varieties of 
the English climate, healthful exercise and wholesome recre- 
ation should be easily attainable ; to raise the enjoyments 
and amusements of the English people, and especially to af- 
ford to the inhabitants of London, in wholesome country air, 
amidst the beauties of nature, the elevating treasures of art 
and the instructive marvels of science, an accessible and in- 
expensive substitute for the injurious and debasing amuse- 
ments of a crowded metropolis ; to blend them instruction 
with pleasure, to educate them by the eye, to quicken and 
purify their taste by the habit of recognising the beautiful ; 
to place them amidst the trees, flowers, and plants of all 
countries and of all climates, and to attract them to the study 
of the natural sciences, by displaying their mo'st interesting 
examples, and making known all the achievements of mo- 
dern industry, and the marvels of mechanical manufac- 
tures," 

In two years this building has been completed, extending 
over three quarters of a mile of ground, and covering an 
area of nearly six hundred thousand superficial feet. The 
park is improved ; agents have been employed to obtain col- 

* The Astor Library is an exception. 



47 

lections and to make casts in all parts of the world. Already 
it has become a vast museum, A recent traveller, a corres- 
pondent of the ISTew York Evangelist, remarks, "The Crys- 
tal Palace at Sydenham alone is worth a trip to Europe. 
Such a collection and reproduction of the wonders of the 
world has never been seen before. You may spend there 
days and weeks and months in the study of the works of na- 
ture and art, representing the most distant climes, and all 
the ages of history, from the first dawn of civilization to the 
immediate present. Only the universal culture of our cen- 
tury could conceive the idea of such a microcosmos ; and 
only by a nation like the English, and in a city like London, 
could it be carried into actual existence." The Crystal Pa- 
lace of New York was at best a diminutive imitation of the 
one in London, As an exhibition of industrial and artistic 
works it was imperfect; as a stock operation, a failure, which 
even the tact of Barnum could not retrieve : its final destina- 
tion is an unsolved problem, but it gives no promise of being 
even a diminutive imitation of Sydenham. Such a park and 
such a palace, containing such treasures of nature and art, 
would be of no less value to our country, and to New York 
in particular, than to England and London ; nay, an exhi- 
bition one-fifth in magnitude — and New York is more than 
one-fifth of London — would be of incalculable importance 
to the population of our metropolis. But where is the com- 
pany to create even a miniature of Sydenham in the vicinity 
of New York ? Some will cross the Atlantic to see this new 
wonder, and return to say, with the traveller above quoted, 
"Only hj a nation like the English, and a city like London, 
could the idea of such a microcosmos be carried into actual 
existence." 



III. 

A UNIVERSITY IN NEW YORK. 

New York, together with the cities on the opposite shores, 
which indeed are but an outgrowth of itself, contains some 
800,000 inhabitants. It is not improbable that the close of 
our century will witness four or five millions of people con- 
gregated here. What an amazing city ! 

The influences which are to guide and control this mass 
of energetic life ought to be brought into operation without 
delay. We have spoken of the necessity of the higher forms 



of culture, and of the institutions which can alone create it. 
At the head of these institutions stands the University, 
Science, literature, and the arts can be effectually advanced, 
and their spirit infased into society, only by means of an 
institution which forms the great laboratory of thought, con- 
tains the representative men of all branches of knowledge, 
and multiplies indefinitely the educated class. 

As yet New York has nothing that even approaches to a 
University, It has only three colleges, containing altogether 
some four hundred students. It possesses indeed a noble 
system of primary education, and is fast multiplying its nor- 
mal schools ; but bej^ond this, very little has been accom- 
plished. But a basis is here laid for a grand system of pub- 
lic instruction, which may easily be made to culminate in a 
university. We would propose the following plan : 

First, let the colleges now in existence abolish the four 
years' course, and incorporating into themselves the grammar- 
school department, enlarge themselves to the compass of the 
German Grymnasia. They will thus have a beginning, a 
middle, and an end, where the number of classes and the 
^•ears embraced by the course of study shall be determined 
by the nature of the studies pursued and the discipline to be 
achieved. The number of these institutions would naturally 
be increased, and the city itself might be led to create other 
free academies. 

Berlin, with little more than 400,000 inhabitants, has seven 
gymnasia, which together contain about 3,500 students. It 
may easily be imagined, therefore, how the gymnasia of New 
York might be increased, with its rapidly increasing popula- 
tion. It would be a noble work for the colleges now in ex- 
istence, to lead on this new development. The connection 
between the primary schools and the colleges or gymnasia 
now becomes clear and natural, for now a rational gradation 
exists. 

Secondly, let a proper University be at once created, on 
a scale commensurate with the wants and the magnificence 
of our great metropolis. A great University would com- 
mend itself to the notice, and attract the patronage of 
wealthy and liberal m.en. It would be an object of national 
pride and ambition. An institution on a diminutive scale 
would excite but little interest, and be easily overlooked. 

The Astor Library gives sure promises of becoming one of 
the great libraries of the world. Here, then, we have already 
provided a grand centre for our University. This library is 
on too lofty a scale to become a mere circulating library. It 
is designed to be a library for scholars. But as such it can- 
not answer its end, unless a University be gathered around 



49 

it. It should be the library of the entire University of New- 
York, or it may be of the Astor University. It is a magni- 
ficent beginning, which demands a corresponding comple- 
tion. Its very existence contains an inspiration. Is not the 
spirit, as well as the wealth which created it, an inherit- 
ance ? 

Who will begin the great work ? If but one man could 
be found to begin it, his example would electrify hundreds. 

Is it not plain now that the public schools, the colleges, 
and the University, would form one grand system, sustaining 
each other, pouring life into each other, and co-working to 
one great end ? 

Let the highest institution take the initiative. This, once 
brought into existence, would mould into proper forms all 
the other grades, and perfect them. The history of educa- 
tion shows us that the highest institutions have ever led on 
the educational development. 



lY. 

THE EOYAL AKTISANS' INSTITUTE OF BERLIN. 

We have referred to the institution which Mr. Cooper has 
founded in New York for mechanics. This has suggested 
to us to give some account of a-like institution in Berlin. 

The Royal Institute for Artizans is supported in part by 
the government, and in part by the avails of a legacy of 
$225,000. It forms the culminating point of a system of 
education for engineers and mechanics. In all the provin- 
ces, there are provincial artisan schools designed especially 
for mechanics. From these a certain number of pupils are 
selected according to merit, and permitted to enter the higher 
institute in Berlin. The number of students in the Royal 
Institute is limited to two hundred. About forty of these 
are supported in full. Strangers are also admitted without 
any charge for tuition. Of those who enter regularly on the 
foundation, it is required that they shall have reached seven- 
teen years of age, shall have studied the elements of chemis- 
try and natural philosophy, and all the mathematics, prepa- 
ratory to a commencement of the Calculus, and also shall 
have worked one year at some mechanic art. 

The course upon which they enter at the Royal Institute 
comprises three years. The first year, they pursue in com- 

4 



^v 



60 

mon a course in mathematics, physical science, and draw- 
ing. At the second year they are divided into three classes, 
each student selecting his class — the class of chemists, the 
class of engineers, and the class of mechanics, or perhaps 
more properly the class of house-builders. The second year 
is spent in studies according with these three divisions. Du- 
ring the third year, work and study are conjoined : the che- 
mists spend a part of every day in the laboratory, in making 
■analyses, and indeed in every form of manipulation under 
the direction of the professor of chemistry ; the engineers 
are in the work-shop engaged in making machinery, steam 
engines, &c. ; and the house-builders make models of every 
description of building or parts of the same, and mould in 
clay various architectural ornaments. There are rooms also 
where moulds are framed for castings. 

Kiss, the celebrated author of the noble group in bronze^ 
of the Amazon and the Tiger, which stands in front of the 
Museum, gives instruction in moulding figures, architectural 
ornaments, and various models for bronze and iron castings. 
.Rammelsberg, a distinguished professor of chemistry in 
the University, gives instruction in this department in the 
Institute. The instructors are generally able men. All the 
apparatus and preparations are on an ample scale. The che- 
mical laboratory for the use of the students is large and fully 
furnished. There is also a laboratory where Rammelsberg 
gives his lectures ; and in addition to this he has his own 
private laboratory. The work-shops are all large and com- 
modious, and contain a great deal of machinery, worked by 
a steam engine. Models are made at the Institute for the 
use of the provincial schools. There is a room for engrav- 
ing; there is another for weaving patterns of various fabrics; 
and there is a large room filled with models of machinery 
and buildings. The department of natural philosophy is 
provided with a very complete set of apparatus.. In draw- 
ing the instruction is very thorough. Connected with this 
department is a fine gallery filled with casts in plaster of some 
of the most celebrated pieces of ancient and modern sculp- 
ture. And, besides all this, there is a library well furnished 
with books relating to the subjects of study ; and a reading- 
room containing all the best scientific journals of Germany, 
France, England, and America. Everything seems to be 
provided that could be desired. It is a perfect institution of 
the kind. 



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